Night of the Meatloaf

May 16, 2008

Last night, I sat alone in a corner booth of a fast-food burrito joint, with black mascara streaks all over my face.

It was awesome, as you can probably imagine.

Jason sent me an email in the afternoon to tell me there was a work happy hour he had to go to, but he wouldn't be too late.

I sent him an email reminding him that, in typical end-of-the-week fashion, we had no food in the house, so could he pick something up before he came home? Burritos from Chipotle would be good, I suggested.

Mmmm, Chipotle, I thought, after hitting send. Chipotle would be very, VERY good.

And so I waited. I fed Noah his dinner, lamented the lack of ANYTHING ELSE EDIBLE in the house, at least anything edible that wouldn't 1) turn my stomach or 2) spoil my appetite for the sure-to-be delicious burrito that would arrive any second now, and then I spent an hour engaged in a completely pointless and circular argument with Noah about exactly what potty-related business was worthy of an M&M, and no, you don't get one for just sitting there, and stared at the clock.

7 pm.

7:30.

God, I was hungry.

At 8 pm Jason came home. That would be...late, in my mind. I struggled to hoist myself off the bathroom floor and almost blacked out. My blood sugar was crashing through the floor but thank God there was something to eat in this damn place now.

When I got downstairs, Jason was putting groceries away. He'd gone grocery shopping. There was no Chipotle. I asked him what he'd gotten for dinner and he gestured towards the packages of raw meat on the counter. Raw meat that would all need to be cooked.

And never mind the fact that I am eating almost exclusively vegetarian these days, because meat -- the look, texture, taste of all of it, including fish and poultry -- makes my still-delicate stomach flip-flop. I will eat it, usually when we go to some food event that Jason signs us up for, but these nights invariably end with me dry-heaving in a restaurant bathroom. If I am not expressly in the mood for it, I might as well be choking down grubs on Survivor.

Last night, something about the sight of all that raw meat just made me lose. My. Mind.

"IT'S EIGHT O'CLOCK!" I railed. "EIGHT! AND NOW I'M SUPPOSED TO COOK? I TOLD YOU TO BRING SOMETHING HOME! YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULDN'T BE LATE! I'M ABOUT TO PASS OUT AND YOU BRING HOME MEATLOAF MIX? THAT TAKES OVER AN HOUR!"

I stormed around the kitchen, coursing with hunger and hormones. Jason shrugged and told me to uh, get over it, he didn't pick up Chipotle, too fucking bad. Here, have some pita chips, or some cheese. I reminded him that dairy has also been particularly unkind to my digestive tract as well. As for the pita chips, well...I just didn't want any damn pita chips.

"What is your PROBLEM today?" he asked, referring to an email I'd sent him earlier about something completely unrelated, in which I declared that he was Officially Driving Me Crazy About <Unrelated Topic>, Oh My God.

It was your typical male-female fight. He saw the literal issue at hand, which was not a big deal. He went to the grocery store, so just pick something else and eat it.

I saw hours-long abandonment and a refusal to listen to me or take my pregnant needs seriously, even if to him they sound trivial. No matter how many times I've told him about the meat thing and the food cravings thing and the food aversions thing, I still get the sense that he thinks I'm just trying to be difficult. And gee, you know what? I'd like to go to happy hour with adults some time too! But I don't! Because that would inconvenience YOUUUUU and make you leave work early and WE ALL KNOW how much more important YOUR JOB is and I paced and stewed and composed eloquent tirades in my head about why this is about SO MUCH MORE than burritos and going grocery shopping when it's already late and not calling to find out if there was something I needed or wanted at the store and I never ask him for more than a glass of water while he's already up...but instead of saying any of these things I grabbed my car keys and diaper bag and told him I needed to get out of the house for a little bit, just like every hysterical pregnant lady in every movie who grabs her purse and announces she's going home to her mother.

What can I say? I was really, REALLY hungry.

I got in the car and started driving. Within a few minutes I was crying, even though I didn't know why. Well, I did. Narrowing it down to a single reason was what I couldn't do.

I have no idea if this is true for other stay-at-home-moms or women who altered their careers after having children, but even the most innocuous, run-of-the-mill argument can sometimes really drive home the power disparity of our household, and how financially dependent I am on Jason, how the majority of my contributions don't get assigned an hourly rate, and how this has changed our relationship and my opinion of myself in ways I didn't expect.

Money is tight right now. Not "we can't pay the electric bill" tight, but tight. I don't think I can afford to go to Blogher (AGAIN), our savings have never been lower and the list of unavoidable boring expenses looms large in the distance. The deck needs refinishing, the screen door is busted, the car lease is up and preschool deposits are due. A couple months of not watching out for every dollar or properly spacing big expenditures stupidly got us here in the first place; a lack of advertising checks and a huge tax payment have made it hard to climb out of the hole. We'll be fine, of course, but it's uncomfortable. There will be no vacations or anniversary plans or push presents or spoiling of the new baby. Next year looks like it will better. But as for right now, it's not a financial situation either of us enjoy or are really used to.

And it's during times like this that I am painfully aware of how little I contribute to our overall budget, despite feeling tied to the computer for hours a day, deadlines day after day after day, with no sick days or vacation time or retirement account, all so I can watch Noah grow up over the ridge of my laptop screen. But then I did insist on a bi-monthly housecleaning service, which is both an incredible help and an incredible guilt-raiser, especially when one of the cleaners mentioned that she went into labor with her last child while vacuuming a client's house.

Oh, the angst of the modern woman, balance, having it all, the topics of a million self-help books and feminist arguments -- all too much to ponder during a single car ride to the Chipotle down the street.

I knew I was being ridiculous, that I was letting myself blow something small out of proportion just to cover for the zillion other tiny anxieties currently keeping me up at night, along with my pregnant bladder. I felt stupid, so I turned my head away from the other cars at stoplights, just in case anyone was able to see me and my blubbering.

I pulled into one of those expectant mother parking spaces and took a deep breath. See? How nice! This is just what I needed. A guy on a cell phone held the door for me and I ordered my vegetarian burrito with hot salsa and sat down to a leisurely meal.

There was no high chair to juggle, no one demanding bits of my tortilla. The burrito tasted every bit as delicious as I'd hoped, and I sat there for awhile after I finished it, picking stray bits of rice off the foil wrapper and wondering what I could possibly say to Jason when I got back home. Do I just admit that I was acting crazy? Do I just blame pregnancy and be done with it? Do I try to maybe mention that I could use a little bit of extra sensitivity right now? Do I really feel like a night of talking about my pregnant little feeeeeeeelings and that just because everything is magnified times a zillion it doesn't mean I shouldn't ever get taken seriously, even if it really is just a request for a vegetarian burrito that gets answered with prepackaged meatloaf mix?

I thought about killing more time by wandering the aisles of CVS, but decided the evening didn't need to get any more melodramatic or Britney-esque. I got back in the car and that's when realized I'd neglected to check my makeup before and that's probably why I got some weird looks in the restaurant.

I got home around 9:30. I walked in and immediately saw Noah in the living room, wide awake and still dressed. He was watching Cars.

I felt my brain slowly make the switch to FLIP YOUR SHIT again (what, am I REALLY the only one who pays attention to bedtime? must I ALWAYS be the non-fun parent? does no one else here REALIZE what it's like to be trapped all day with a off-his-schedule toddler who is NOT gonna just sleep in tomorrow morning to make up for the lack of sleep?) but NO, I was not to let this night get the better of me again. I wordlessly walked upstairs and filled the bathtub.

I climbed in, along with a three-year-old bath ballistic from LUSH (ever wondered if those things expire? yes. they do, and sigh.) and laid there for awhile in the disappointingly tepid water. (Add hot water heater repairs to the list, and sigh.) I surveyed my fat belly and stretch marks -- I'm getting new ones already, ugly purple ones across my stomach and down my thighs, nothing like the spiderweb of thin white ones -- that I didn't even get until 38 weeks -- from last time. After 10 minutes I drained the water because I didn't want to look at myself anymore.

Around 10 o'clock I heard Jason put Noah to bed. GAH GAH GAH, my head chanted, as I resisted the urge to remind him to brush our child's teeth. I turned on the TV in our bedroom to watch Lost.

Jason finally came in and asked if I was feeling better. I wasn't, but I shrugged and said I guessed so. I was too exhausted to explain any of it. He wouldn't understand. Hell, I barely understood.

He sat down on the bed and gingerly rubbed my leg and told me to get some sleep. I blurted out that I missed Julie, my friend who moved to California back in February, and started to cry. I could tell he was valiantly and desperately trying to find any connection between this and the thing about burritos. He told me to get some sleep again and retreated downstairs.

I tried to sleep, but the burrito gave me terrible heartburn.

***It's 2 pm right now. Noah went down early for a nap, and I'm unshowered and still in my pajamas. It has just occurred to me that I forgot to eat lunch. Minutes ago, Jason came home early.

Comments

Awww....I feel your pain. I spent most of yesterday evening arguing with my husband while driving all over town. All because I wanted to put air in the spare tire before we leave on a 10 hour road trip with our child in the car. How dare I make him drive around looking for a gas station with an air compressor that works? Don't I know he has been working all day? Ugh. Luckily today has been better. But no flowers.

I'm totally with you. I'm 26 weeks pregnant and we're also experiencing a bit of a financial slump - one that we're not used to either. And the thing that's taking the hit is the little long weekend away I've been saying I've wanted since we got pregnant so we have one final trip as the two of us that will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN! And I'm SO incredibly bummed out about it that I'm on the verge of charging the entire trip and risk paying it off until the baby is in college.

I must blow up at Dave at least three times a month over stuff that is SUCH A BIG DEAL to me and yet, never seems to register on his radar. The last time after we had fought and then made up, he went to the grocery store and I yelled out after him, "BRINGING YOUR WIFE FLOWERS IS NICE EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE." And then, you know what? When he brought them home with him, it was nice, but DAMN I would have liked it if he'd thought of that himself.

so maybe fighting more often would work to your advantage if you were to consider it in flowers and chocolate ice cream...but on the other hand maybe he should have just added those two items to his grocery shopping list in the first place!!! heehee

Ok, I'm totally crying here. I can't even tell you how many times we've been through this. I'm 16 weeks pregnant and he just doesn't get it. And he seems to think I'm on some sort of vacation, staying at home with our 2-year old. Meanwhile, I'm lucky if he gets home before 8. I could go on and on... oh, I can totally relate.

But seriously, what a rockstar for having the sense that he somehow messed up - and made it up to you. What a great guy, even if he does dumb stuff sometimes. I suppose mine is ok too.

I'm a SAHM to 16 m-o son and 7 y-o (NOT homeschooled) daughter. I totally get it. EVERY STINKIN' CRAZY-AS-A-LOON BIT of it. Like you, I have always banked too much of my self-esteem in my "work-place" skills, sneering at the skills necessary to run our home successfully. Now, I'm battling the same demons as you. (Except for the pregnancy hormones.) Currently, my worst demon to fight is Yo Gabba Gabba! Unfortunately, the baby likes it. Fortunately, he likes the can of diced chiles in the cabinets more...

Good for you for not being the martyr last night. I totally would have. And would have resented everyone in the world for it and would have huffed and puffed and blown my house down in my frustration and attempt to release some of the stress and anger without screaming obscenities at the mountain of laundry and dirty dishes and still-dressed child up past his bedtime.

I'll drink a glass of wine for you tonight. Enjoy the weekend. Enjoy Jason's attempts to understand and cope. Enjoy yourself too.

((((HUGS))))
I understand where you are coming from. 10 years of marriage and I am not any closer to rational thinking. In fact...farther away than ever. In my hubby's defense, he can see where I come from much faster than before, and when I blow up....I am quick to apologize and he is quick to forgive, even if there is nothing to REALLY forgive.
I feel the tilt in power, but it is only an issue to me. He works his tail off at overtime jobs so I can stay home and sweat each trip to the grocery store and each splurge on kids shoes or kids toys. He tells me not to worry, that all is OK, but it is hard not to. This last tax season was the first time I had NO W2 to add to the return. First time in nearly 20 years! It was quite big to me, but not to him.
I may not get flowers, but occasionally, I get the sweetest note left by the coffee pot (with fresh decaf for my pregnant self) and a phone call every day asking me how I feel.
So I feel more for my poor hubby having to put up with me and my moods, and he feels for me having to put up with sick kids, sleepless nights and cooking dinner every night so he can have a meal to take to work for lunch the next day.
It is all about compromise and seeing what the other is doing to make the family work.

I have a friend who is like a second Mom to me. She once told me, "If you have a uterus, that makes you the keeper-of-the-list. The best you can ope for is that you find a partner who thinks to say, 'Honey, what's on the list?'"

There are times that, though the items on the list aren't really big or strenuous, just holding onto that list is EXHAUSTING.

Especially when you're the ONLY ONE who is pregnant, you need help with the list. If/when he doesn't ask what's on the list, tell him. And clearly, since they don't often listen carefully enough.

And I'm with Emily - "getting flowers" shouldn't be on the list. Kudos to Jason for just knowing to do it. :-)

Thank you for writing this down. I'm sending this one to the Husband because I'm too much of a chicken to try to explain how it feels to even think about the To Stay at Home, To Not Stay at Home question.

And I totally gave up trying to explain to him...any of this...the pregnancy stuff, the food stuff, the little things compounding one on top of the others until you feel like you're going to burst into flame.

You're the best, and I bought your book today so RICHES will be coming your way soon. Or, you know, another burrito after 1,000 other people buy it. Your stories make so many people's -- like mine! --- lives better. Your new baby is going to rock. Sorry about your tough night.

When I was about six months pregnant I had one of those freak out moments when I just could not stand the sight of his face for one more second, waddled to the car with a pillow & blanket and drove to my office at about 11:00 p.m. My office, which was in a lovely old Victorian, still had an old claw foot tub in the bathroom - which I squeezed my 5'9" fat assed self into once I remembered that we had seen a mouse earlier that week and there was no way I was lying on the floor. My crazy hormonal indignation over some now forgotten slight lasted for several hours, after which I went home, tail between my legs. God, do I feel like I know you after this post. Sending lots of feel better vibes your way.

Sweet Jesus - you and I may share a brain and a complete set of hormones. My Jason (and his name is really Jason)?Same. Wonderful and sweet and just mind-numbingly clueless at times. The stay-at-home guilt/power/self-esteem issues? Same. The fights over issues underlying other issues? Same. The tears because of anger? Same. We've all been there - even with the good ones (husbands, I mean). Hang in there sister!

Itis always about more than the burrito. Way to go not blowing up upon seeing the toddler still not in bed. I would have. I have big problems not exploding in those moments. And I know exactly where you are coming from with the disparity in power being a SAHM. It sucks to feel so dependent, even when you know that you are the driving force behind the family and the relationship. You are more evolved than me because I would be totally still in mellow dramatic Britney-esuqe mode, I still am. I feel ya. Hang in there:)

Itis always about more than the burrito. Way to go not blowing up upon seeing the toddler still not in bed. I would have. I have big problems not exploding in those moments. And I know exactly where you are coming from with the disparity in power being a SAHM. It sucks to feel so dependent, even when you know that you are the driving force behind the family and the relationship. You are more evolved than me because I would be totally still in mellow dramatic Britney-esuqe mode, I still am. I feel ya. Hang in there:)

Wow. Crying here. I feel like I could have inserted my husband's name into that post and it would have worked everytime. And also, the comment from Amanda - I'm also 16 weeks pg. with a little toddler and man. The tired. I just finished a massive deadline, and it was just SOOOO inconvenient that my husband had to be the primary one to parent our child for a day or two. I've often wondered what all these husbands would say if we wives announced that we were "just going out to do 'X'" without having to negotiate it down to the last second.

I discovered your blog a week or two ago and it is entries like this that keep me addicted! I read as my little 7 week old son sleeps on my chest (would he ever consider sleeping anywhere else?) and nod along to stuff like this. The memory of pregnancy and all it entails-- wanting an ice cream from McDonalds ("No! Not grocery store ice cream! McDonalds!") nearly every night, guilt over wanting SO MUCH ice cream when we were holding onto every penny for rent, and the tears because I wanted my husband to just know that I wanted that ice cream and not have to ask him to go out after a 12 hour work day and get it for me-- is still fresh. And the total hysterical refusal to believe nine months would EVER end!!!!!!! And then when it does that stupid man wants to hang out at his parents house just one more hour when we are "already hours off schedule! I don't see you getting up with him at 4 AM every day!" I love knowing it is the same for everyone. Being without the hormones now it is so much clearer to me that sometimes you just CAN'T help it! You're not crazy, your body is turning on you. And sadly... they will never really get it. But yours got you ice cream without even being told! Amazing!

AWWW I have been lurking here and reading/laughing out loud since I found out I was preggers a month ago. I just wanted you to know you are my hero cause you write about all the stuff good bad and ugly that eats me up inside but I never have the guts to talk about! You rule and I have ahd this same exact fight and thank you for sharing cause now I feel like less of a dork!

Man, that is hard. It is interesting to hear a different perspective because even though I work full time I go through what you do but in reverse. It is hard and frustrating to be a mommy, stay at home or not. I make good money but I feel guilt for not being there with my kid 24/7 (and soon to be kidS) and I see and hear so many other moms who are there 24/7.

I feel like a failure. I feel bad for enjoying my work even while missing my baby. Then I get on my pity pot for selling my kid out for fat cash. Which leads me to crying and driving around and being angry over not getting a well earned burrito or whatever it is I think I deserved (including the fact that holy crap these stinking laundry baskets have been sitting in my way for two days, with me tripping over them and you have gone up and downstairs 20 times in that time - you could not pick the empty baskets up and deposit them in the laundry room so your 30 week pregnant wife does not need to do it!??!?!) for doing it all.

He may never get it but the flowers and ice cream sure are a nice touch ;)

Oh thank you so much for calling this type of thing normal!! I feel a lot of time there are things that are so obvious that men (namely my boyfriend) don't get and then I flip out and he's all "where is this coming from?"
gah
To complicate matters he contributes more money than I do to our household and that also adds to my guilt.
But I am not pregnant and I can't blame the hormones which I am sure are not helping matters.
I'm sorry you had such a crazy night.
But we all have 'em now and then.
Enjoy the ice cream!

As long as the flower-and-ice-cream moments outnumber the no-burrito moments, I'd say you have yourself a pretty good deal. We all have our meltdowns (mine occur while not pregnant so I can't even blame hormones!), and I am a firm believer that they are necessary for general overall mental health. So please, enjoy your ice cream.

I think this is my favorite entry that you've written in a while. It was just so real and honest and not "everything is fine and my life is awesome!", which I think is how a lot of bloggers come across because we can choose what we write about. Not that we're trying to make our lives sound better than they actually are, or anything.
Like the other morning I actually thought to myself "I want what Amy and Jason have"...which is silly because I have no idea what your relationship is like beyond the internetz. I don't know, I guess this post just made me feel more human, because I've had non-pregnant related freak-outs that are exactly like the one you had last night.

1. I have more or less the same argument cycle with my boyfriend once a month (yeahhh). It helps if I give him a heads up, and request a little extra understanding. Everyone has crazy days - he has 'em when he gets a cold and I can't rub his back the way MOOMMM DOEES ITTTT!
2. I get kind of emotional about Chipotle too. It's okay.

I dunno, it must have been something about yesterday because I totally lost my shit because I wanted to buy plants at a farmer's market and my husband made The Look he does when he doesn't want something, the look like he just smelled some rotten fruit. It was $9 and yeah, money is tight for us right now (I do sub-contract work and no projects = no money) but dued. $9. It's the only thing we're doing in the yard this year.

If gas didn't cost $87 a gallon I would drive down there and take you out for a burrito, because damn, I really want a burrito now.

Ice cream and flowers can have a surprisingly comforting effect. They don't solve problems, but they can minimize them a little, right? And I have to give him credit for trying to do SOMEthing, even if he didn't know exactly what.

Coming home early with the two things he could think of that might help... are you torn between whether that makes you feel better or worse? I know I would be. And then I'd cry a little more (much to his confusion) but this time clinging to him. I don't know how we put up with them, but I don't know how they put up with us either...

Quite possibly you are in the most financially draining stage of life there is. We were there as I was a SAHM with a mortgage, car payments and preschool. Now all 3 kids are in school and I work part time at their school. It's not much money but it really helps and I'm still available for class parties and field trips.

You are only 29 (+1?). In a few years everyone will be on school and you can return to work.

And despite the lack of reecognition of your stated need, Jason is awesome and I am absolutely not surprised by his actions.

I find it interesting that so many people are willing to label this kind of thing "crazy." From what I read, you asked your husband to do something. . .you didn't do anything passive-agressive like hint around, or suggest MAYBE if he brought SOMETHING home to you it MIGHT be nice. No, you asked for something. You gave him specifics, you gave him reasons why. All completely legitimate (he'll be out late, you'll be doing overtime on YOUR full-time job, groceries were running low).

AND HE IGNORED YOU.

To be perfectly honest, that would not fly in my house. My circumstances are extremely similar to yours--I stay at home with a two-year-old, I'm 13 weeks pregnant with #2, and my husband works and is the sole breadwinner. So I thinnk I speak from a pretty good spot of empathy with you on this. And again, that s**t just wouldn't fly in my house.

WHen I ask my husband to pick up something on his way home from work, he does it. On occasions where he hasn't been able to, or has been later than expected, he calls. He says, "You asked for X, but is it okay if I do Y instead?" You know, a dialogue.

So really, the fact that your husband completely ignored your requests and all the circumstances contributing to your request. . .it's just downright rude and disrespectful.

So back to my original question. Why do we label this "crazy?" Why are all of these women joining you on that label? Your husband was rude and ignored you, which frustrated you to the point of anger and tears. . .nope, not seeing the crazy there. I think we all do a disservice to WOMEN by continuing to label our feelings as crazy or hormonal. Hormones do enter into your issue: your system is completely thrown off by the extreme levels of hormone change that pregnancy brings. This causes nausea and food aversions/cravings. Has Jason taken a basic biology class? Have you not asked him to imagine having the stomach flu and then trying to choke down oysters on the half shell (or something that would gross him out if he were sick)?

Maybe my husband is extraordinary on the empathy front. But all I had to do was give him the above illustration about the stomach flu (when I was pregnant with our first) for him to be 100% on board when it comes to helping me eat things that won't make me barf.

I know no one wants to hear a rant like this. I just think it's unfortunate that so many women are willing to diminish the importance of their own FEELINGS and NEEDS by writing them off as craziness. And for men to be so lazy on the empathy that they can't keep in their head that raw ground beef might just not be an acceptable substitute for a nice, hot, vegetarian burrito at 8:00 at night.

YES! I can relate to all of it. The guilt, the power, the money (the freaking money thing that leaves me awake and panicking at night because milk and gas are so expensive), the husband who doesn't always get the food thing. Nothing infuriates me more than Ryan saying "We'll just find something" when I say "We don't have any food for dinner." Um, no, you are not 21, we are not eating creamed corn and toast for dinner. I love the way Jason made up for it though... sounds like he's really trying to understand what you need (and some rest and ice cream may be it!)

Wow. I was going to comment on the sage words from JZmom's second mom: There are times that, though the items on the list aren't really big or strenuous, just holding onto that list is EXHAUSTING. , because AMEN to that!

And we've probably all been through something similar to your Not About The Burrito argument, Amy, but damn...

I think Kara may have stated the situation in a way a man might understand.

There must have been something in the air last night...so, we were out on a stroll, my husband was pushing the stroller, and then all of a sudden, my husband cuts in front of me to show the baby some flowers. I was like HELLO..you just cut me off! He was like, "what's the big deal? I just wanted to show Ben the flowers?". But I was so pissed...not just b/c of that instant, but it was just yet another time where I was left feeling invisible. It sucks b/c OF COURSE the baby is #1, but still, sometimes it just hurts to be reminded you've lost that spot in your husbands heart.
Anyway...it's the common female vs. male argument you were talking about..b/c with us, there's always just so much more underneath the surface of the argument.

Gaghk! Is it my 11 weeks pregnant hormones, or the eerie similarity of your night to the night I had? Am crying, and chuckling a little and then crying some more? Last night I needed some Lucky 5 Hot Sour Soup with the need of a 1st trimester needyness. I assure you, I didn't get any.... not that I ever came right out and asked Dadguy for it... but the late part was smack on, and I thought I was gonna die from his lateness. Esp since he's bailing on me tonite. Eeeep! Getting worked up again!

I read this blog for confirmation that I am not crazy. I quit my job before our now eight month old son was born. This is the first time I have been so dependent on someone else since I was a child. I am thirty-six. Having a child is much harder than I ever imagined. Money is tight. My husband went out for the after work drinks last night too (the ones I never get any more). And we had a disagreement about summer plans for NEXT summer.

I hope he comes home with ice cream tonight.

Take care of yourself Amalah and keep posting. It helps me get through my day.

Oh this post made me CRY with sympathy for everything you're going through Amy. All of it - the finances (EEEWWW to boring expenditures), the bedtime, the burrito, the coming home late husband. Now that I'm a SAHM for a year I can completely relate. Even though in the big scheme of things we are lucky lucky women.

Will have to talk to my husband about the flowers and chocolate. Jason has upstaged him yet again :)

I wish I had known about all this last night, I would have brought you a burrito on the way home from the office last night. Get Jason to watch Noah- my happy hour is on Randolph Rd tonight and I'm happy to treat you to a non-alcoholic beverage so that you can spend time with grown ups.

I feel weird even commenting because I hardly ever do, and please know this comes from a place of love, and I'm not trying to be a troll or assvicey, etc, but I have to agree with Kara.

I would have felt hurt and confused if I was in that situtation. I don't think that's crazy. I don't think it's fair to call it crazy. I don't want to demonize Jason, especially since he seems to realize that he did something wrong and has done something to address that and make it up to you. It's not about that. It's obvious that you and Jason have a good relationship, he seems like an awesome partner--but even awesome partners screw up sometimes.

I'm not saying he should be flogged or anything, I'm just saying it's ok to acknowledge that he screwed up and that hurt your feelings without discounting either by saying you're crazy.

In this situation your partner disregarded your needs and you were hurt by it. That's not crazy, that's human.

Thank you for writing this today. It's good to know I am not alone in the parent-mom-wife-budgetkeeper type thing. Sometimes my feelings get a little out of control like this and I am also glad to know that I am not alone in that boat either. Hang in there, it will get better.

Kara -- that is a great comment, and something I hadn't really thought about, even as I retold the story today and alternately felt embarrassed and angrily emotional about it all over again.

I guess what I see as "crazy" or "irrational" is that I took one thing and turned it into Many Other Things. That's not a fair way to fight. I agree that Jason was extremely insensitive and didn't make any effort to understand where I was coming from -- it wasn't a big deal to him, and he just.did.not. get why it was such a big deal to me. I will use your stomach flu metaphor today though -- it's great.

He apologized today because he totally realized he was insensitive (his words! before even reading the comments!). He'd had a long day too, with a lot of stress and worry at work, so neither of us were wearing our best husband-and-wife hats.

I also apologized, because really, I should just be talking to him about more stuff before it gets to the "burst into flame" stage (awesome comment there, the Wife) where one thing opens the floodgates of EVERYTHING ELSE that's bothering me and it all comes flying out in a screechy, profanity-laden tantrum of gibberish.

This is familiar that it is painful. The much lower paying, less "important" job, the loss of friends, the insensitive to my female feelings husband. After twelve years of marriage, two kids and four cross country moves for his job, he is just now starting to get it. Just now. I'm sorry you had a bad day. Empathy coming your way.

This reminds me of a time that I stood in line at Freebird's (local burrito place), with tears streaming down my face, about 6 months pregnants. And it reminds me of the same fight my husband and I have had since my son was born. How can you love someone (husband) so much most of the time and then just occasionally hate them so much? Thankfully, Jason knows chocolate ice cream cures a whole lot.

I know that during tougher financial times, my husband can get a little wigged about things like the burrito (it's always about more than the burrito :)), and I could just see him grabbing up some hamburger and thinking to himself, "Ah, yes, this is a fiscally responsible way to do dinner. And I'm sure Beth won't mind." All the while forgetting that maybe I really, really needed the burrito (again, more than just a burrito!) for a whole variety of reasons, and that his best way of loving me is to get the damn burrito.

Money is hard (god oh god it is). Pregnancy and toddlers are hard. Communicating with the alien life forces that are our husbands is awfully hard. But ice cream and flowers = love.

God, that sounds just like my life right now. How do you explain to your husband that no, I am not milking it, I am actually eight months pregnant?! And that something like our insanely energetic toddler refusing to take a nap is totally a good reason to start crying because I'm exhausted and I don't want to go to the playground again? All I can say is that I've been promised a hot fudge sundae SINCE MARCH and I have yet to get it. There is no way I'm going to forget it - the third trimester hormones won't let me!

I'm sorry you had such a rough day.. and im especially sorry that your husband "didnt get it" trust me.. BEEN there!!!

sorry you're not doing well financially either.. but i helped!! You're welcome for your extra 11 cent boost today.. i checked out an add about.. well.. i have no idea what it was about..i just wanted to make sure you got some money!! Even if it is only 11 cents! :)

I always read and never comment but I had to today because...just...thank you. Thank you so much for writing that today. I'm a new mom to a 3 month old and while I love my daughter to complete and utter distraction today has absolutely been one of THOSE days and reading this made me feel just a little less alone. Thank you.

This was a really great post.
Being a stay at home mom is really hard.
Modern society doesn't place enough emphasis or value on us. And damn we do a lot!
I can't imagine how hard it must be to be pregnant with a toddler.
Wonderfully written.
Thanks for sharing.

I won't bore you with my story - but let's just say I've had several of the same type of nights, the most recent two nights ago. So, I hear you, you're not alone, you're not insane, you're lovely and cute and hang in there. The end.

Ah, bless you, Amy and everything you went through. And maybe forgive him, because he really is just a man. We're all in the same financial boat here, and sometimes emotionally it feels like we're all sinking..

I read through all the comments before I made this one, and since it's in the same vein as Kara's and you've already addressed that, I'll keep it short. I wanted to point out that I found it a little worrisome that people are calling Jason a "rockstar" for bring flowers and chocolate ice cream after that night of insensitivity. To me that reaks of "easy way out." Granted, I have my own issues about stuff like this, and I specifically see my dad make these little gestures when a bigger one was really required. I'm glad to hear that Jason apologized and was able to talk with you about it. *That* is the big required gesture. And when flowers and ice cream are a way of opening dialogue, that's awesome. But to praise him for being an outstanding individual for that alone seemed a little over the top to me. It makes me feel like a lot of women are accepting crumbs instead of loaves. That said, I'm really sorry you had that evening, and I'm really glad you guys are able to talk about it. And you wrote this post because of all the little things that are getting to you, not to lionize your apparently truly decent husband. :)

You just through me into a time-warp black hole and it was 2 years ago, I am pregnant with my 2nd and my preschooler is driving me crazy and I can only eat what I want and nothing else and my husband is either an insensitive lug or the best dude ever.

Pregnancy sucks! At least until you have the hard cute basketball and get lots of attention from everyone and you know it will soon be over and you'll be semi-normal again and with a gorgeous little baby to boot.

I'm not exactly sure how you do it, but you've once again managed to encapsulate in a blog post an experience that is as universal as it is extremely personal.

I've wrestled mightily with the whole "I'm not contributing what I *thought* I was going to contribute to this family" thing, too. It's not easy for anyone, though - my sister is the wage earner in her house and she feels trapped in a career that has veered from where she intended it to go simply because she has to support the family.

No assvice, just sympathy... and slight jealousy over the ice cream. We are out of chocolate ice cream at Chez Velma.

I think it's nice that he brought the flowers and ice cream, but it would have been nicer to bring the freaking Chipotle the night before, but I am a bitch like that.

You are not alone, sister. I worry all the time about how financially dependent I am on my husband and how socially dependent I am on him too. I beg him for details about his day, *please please* tell me what you talked to people about, it's pathetic, and laughable, but temporary.

I make a lot less than Adam, particularly now that we moved to Vermont for his job and I gave up my formal career in favor of freelancing, as my career(s) doesn't really exist here. I did this willingly, knowing that for a variety of reasons it was the best decision for the family we hope to have together, but STILL. Every time -- and I mean EVERY TIME -- we have a fight, I somehow tie it back to my feelings of inadequacy in bringing home significantly less money. Or you know, sometimes NONE AT ALL, if no one responds to my invoices.

It hits us all, man. It HITS US ALL. And I'm not even hormonal beyond normal levels.

Also, these comments are killing me. I'm LOVING Mel, who went to sleep in her office's bathtub. And Emily, who told Dave to bring flowers and THEN HE DID IT. WHICH IS ODDLY ANNOYING. Been there, man. BEEN THERE.

And to Linda, who said that flowers and ice cream should only be the precursor to loving dialogue, I say dude, sometimes flowers and ice cream are ENOUGH.

I *always* get the (eventual) loving dialogue and willingness to talk through it and sometimes I wish I would just get flowers and ice cream and maybe gold ingots. Gestures are a lot bigger than they seem, is all I'm saying.

I love your blog! I got started reading your Pregnancy one through my friend who reads it (and SHE isn't even pregnant... go you!), and recently realized that the writer of that one is the same as the writer from this one. I'm a sharp one, I'm sure you can tell. Anyway, keep it up, loving it!

I love your blog! I got started reading your Pregnancy one through my friend who reads it (and SHE isn't even pregnant... go you!), and recently realized that the writer of that one is the same as the writer from this one. I'm a sharp one, I'm sure you can tell. Anyway, keep it up, loving it!

Awesome post. Really. And I was really getting mad at Jason until the end, b/c I totally agree with Kara -- you weren't being crazy at all (and I've never even been preggers). I think everyone is entitled to just be having a really miserable day sometimes and it's not too much to expect the other person to cut you some slack and bring you the damn burrito (or, after being called out for being insensitive, putting the kid to bed).

But also, this really scares me. I'm a lawyer, fiance is a lawyer, we both work long hours, and no way we can work these hours once we decide to have kids. It's clear I'll be the one to cut back the most (although he'll frankly have to as well, because seriously, we were both up until 4am working last night). Anyway, your comments about staying home and its effect on your opinion of yourself scare me. Your comments about feeling like you're always working to meet deadlines but yet you feel like a drain on the finances scare me. Comments about it not occuring to him to put the kid to bed or brush the babies teeth scare me. And the 345 comments agreeing with you scare me. I don't want to resent myself. Or my husband. I don't want to feel like I can't go to as many happy hours as him b/c what I do isn't as important. But I look at you and everyone else and it seems like it's simple inevitable? Scary.

Yeah. You didn't invent this at all. We all have it. Can you believe that, when it's happening, you feel like you're the only one to whom this happens? And, yet, 90 people have echoed it. Plus, me! I am a mother of 3, and I feel that my little world MAGNIFIES the tiniest imperfections of life. He doesn't know from whence these outbursts come, and it's just because I've been locked up in the house doing variations on a theme of raising toddlers. It's exhausting and mind-bending!

Here's the key: explain yourself. Tell him what you need. Trust me - he is HOPING someone will explain what you need. Sometimes you need to "put the dots real close together" for your husband.

It doesn't get any better when the children arrive, so it's best to figure out how to get through it as soon as possible! Good luck! To all of us!

Oh, if I lived next door to you I would run over and give you a big hug (but only if you don't mind being touched because, sometimes, with a toddler and pregnant, don't-even-think-about-it). I have been there. More than once. My sister told my husband, when I was pregnant with our first, "Just remember. From here on out, she's always right."

One of the biggest meltdowns I ever had -- it involved SCREAMING at Sean -- was because I thought he had (wait for it) TAKEN THE PLASTIC OFF MY IPHONE SCREEN WITHOUT ASKING ME. Man, I never knew I could cry and yell so much. Also, once I threw a glass because he told me he didn't have enough vacation days for us to take a trip we'd been (very very vaguely) planning. Can't blame pregnancy on either of those. Can possibly blame PMS though.

Amy, you wrote this so well. The 10,000 comments illustrate how your post resonated with so many women.

All of us in a couple, especially those with children, have lived some version of this story. Some of the details change (he works/she works, pregnant/not pregnant, he came home at 8pm/he came home at 4am, he brought flowers home/he brought beer and three loud friends home), but the essence is the same.

One of the hardest things I have had to accept is that even though I stay calm, clearly communicate my thoughts, needs and feelings, address issues as they arise, don't drag in other issues, set guidelines for my expectations and lead by example, my husband will not necessarily change his behaviour. Painful, but that's the reality.

Aw, Amy, have I told you lately how much I love your blog? It pops up on my Google Reader and my heart does a little leap of joy. I know that here I will find a woman who GETS what it is to be a woman, with a kid (or kids, really!) and a busy, overwhelming life that you love, cherish and are exhausted by. And a man who loves you so much and totally can not get it but then saves himself every time.